


Dry

by mosaicu_baby



Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Abuse, Girl finding her way in life, Jimmy Page as a female, Other, Promiscuity, Self-Doubt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, struggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:35:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28047042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosaicu_baby/pseuds/mosaicu_baby
Summary: 1977 and Jimmy Page as a female leader of the most popular band in 70s
Comments: 10
Kudos: 9





	Dry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wetkitty420](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wetkitty420/gifts), [ledbythreads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ledbythreads/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bounce](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539969) by [wetkitty420](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wetkitty420/pseuds/wetkitty420). 
  * Inspired by [Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26647423) by [ledbythreads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ledbythreads/pseuds/ledbythreads). 



> The story is highly influenced by Sunmi's Borderline and fanfics like Bounce by wetkitty420 and Heart by ledbythreads. I've been rather silent past months, but I'm tracking the fandom despide having nothing to say due to personal struggles. I find the idea of writing Jimmy as a woman interesting and inspiring, so I decided to bring my fifty cents in this. I'm not sure if you guys will like it, anyway just wanna thank you for giving me some topics to think about and opportunity to express something different from what I usually write in this fandom. Maybe I'll come back to female Jimmy later again, I'm really into it.

She's standing on the wrecks of their mutual dream, on the board of Starship that is unable to bring her to the stars. Doesn't matter, she's got the whole galaxy in her pocket. 

Jimmie always tried to be a good girl, it's not her fault that everyone puts her in a bad light. Wasn't she doing her best? Whatever she did, she always ended up alone, tour after tour, affair after affair. She never talked about how broken she felt every time they returned to England and other guys rushed to get home, hug their wives, kiss their kids. How lonely her own big fancy house felt, when she stepped out of the limo with her perfect styled hair and started to drink as soon as she closed the door. 

Now she does the same. It's safer if you have your own routine you can follow day by day. Silent driver delivers her to her place, and Jimmie tells him she doesn't need him anymore for today. She will dearly love to change her clothes and party, pick up one night stand - at least she never had problems with that, girls always line up in front of her hotel room, fighting for her attention. But she cannot. Not because they have a tragedy, no, she doesn't care about Robert's family anymore, because who the fuck will care about her? She's just jaded. 

She watches as the stuff guy picks up her heavy guitars and carry them upstairs, her eyes are empty and gestures are nervous. She cannot wait to be left alone. 

Jimmie locks the door, walks around the house to close all the curtains with cigarette hanging down her mouth. She stops for a while in the hall, watches the phone, mentally running through her contact list to find out there is no one she can call. And no one needs her too, the phone is dead.

She goes upstairs to prepare bathroom, slips out of her tight suit soaked in sweat. It's summer, but the house is cold, so she lets the stream of hot water flow down the cool marble. She's naked and bleeding, old blood smells bad, yet she knows she will be clean again soon. Two lines, familiar numbness in her throat, and finally Jimmie can relax. Bottle of Jack is a better company than people. 

Mirror on the ceiling is misted, steam raises up fron the bathtub. It's too hot for normal human, but Jimmie isn't an ordinary girl. She's a goddess and everything is possible. She gets in, millions of needles pierce her skin, but she doesn't give a shit. Why would she care if her life is over?

She has some vague memories of being here, it feels like it happened in another life with someone else. She remembers how she used to lay in the bathroom for hours, sipping wine, watching her own reflection in semi darkness of candles lights, touching herself. This was the time when drinks tasted sweeter and life was more kind to her. Whiskey is like fire, she chokes and coughs, amber liquid runs down her chest, her nipples, that feel suddenly hard. She thinks why not and puts her bony legs on the bath rims, spreading herself wide for her own self, slipping her free hand down, closing her eyes. Her fingers meet familiar roughness of pubic hair and try to push inside, but she's too dry and tight as a virgin, because Jimmie doesn't let anyone in. Her body is her own temple, that shall be worshiped from the distance. When was the last time she slept with man? She never trusted them, she used to visit Robert form time to time, however it was different experience and they never had penetrative sex. Jimmie tries to shut her mind, imagine all the girls' pussies she had in years, their full breasts, their smell and taste. She thinks of Lori, her baby girl with wide Bambi eyes and puffy lips, and feels nothing. Whatever she tries she remains dry like withered fruit that no one wants to eat.

Clatter of broken bottle comes as surprise even for Jimmie herself. She doesn't feel neither satisfaction, nor pain, just a daze when she sees that water colors pink. Jimmie brings injured hand to her face, licks the blood. She wonders why women always have to bleed, it's unfair. She would love someone to clean her wounds for her, but there is no one on her side anymore, she has to deal herself. She always did.  
She's too hyped, she has to remain vivid and classy, let eager eyes devour her tiny silhouette each time she melts into spotlights. Loneliness is a price for success, it's a solid part of her. Even if she tried to build up something, it never worked, because she's been living so long all by herself, she's unable to share with anybody else no matter if it comes to her bed, her wardrobe or her feelings. After all who cares if she cannot even get off?

Her head is spinning, when she gets up. She almost slips on the wet floor, curses, piece of glass cuts her heel. She makes a mess, walking downstairs, leaving bloodstains everywhere she goes, shaking because of the cool air. She doesn't even think of getting a towel or dressing up, she needs to talk to someone right now or she will loose her mind.

She didn't call home for a long time, knowing that her mother is hurt to read all the stories of Jimmie's debauchery. All Jimmie wanted from the start was making a living out of her dreams and her parents being proud of her. She failed this badly. Her family started to fall apart when her father announced they are going to divorce and remarried another woman, pregnant with Jimmie's half-sister already, then she stopped understanding her own mother who used to support Jimmie. They just couldn't talk anymore, each time she expressed her worries about Jimmie's lifestyle and bad habits, Jimmie became more and more isolated, drowning in her darkest fantasies. But after all it's her mother, she cannot reject Jimmie, right?

It's been forever before Jimmie hears the voice she didn't hear for months. Her usually dry eyes suddenly fill with tears she tries to stop, pressing sweaty palm over her mouth.

'Hello? Who is this?'

Jimmie silently begs her to tell her that she's a good girl, her little girl, and everything will be okay. She needs to tell everything, how fucked up she is, how lost and lonely, how they cancelled the tour because Robert's son is dead and Robert believes it's her fault, how she tried to be okay for years. Jimmie doesn't even know where to start, instead she leans on the wall and exhales. 

'Mum, it's me. I'm home'

Don't push me away. 


End file.
